


A Fractured Mind

by writewithurheart



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Jedha, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:31:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9642731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writewithurheart/pseuds/writewithurheart
Summary: Bor Gullet does more to Bodhi Rook than just scramble his memories. He fractures the pilot's mind. Bodhi struggles to keep his head straight, to categorize the true from the false as he embarks on a journey to destroy the Empire's greatest weapon. Maybe, just maybe, his tenuous grasp on reality is enough to get Rogue One out of this mess alive. Mostly.





	1. One Tends to Lose One's Mind

**One Tends to Lose One’s Mind**

_ Well, Bodhi Rook, you’ve really got yourself into a mess this time. _

The light-hearted attempt at humor fails to settle his nerves as he struggles against the harsh ropes securing him to the chair. He turned his back on the Empire for this? For torture at the hands of the people who are supposed to stand for freedom?

Oh, right. He did it because he has “morals.” 

He risked life and limb to get here, to find Saw Guerrera, to pass on Galen’s message, and he  _ succeeded _ . He’d escaped the Empire in one piece and even evaded the search parties thus far, which was a feat in and of itself. By some clever maneuvering and more than a couple strokes of luck, He’d sought out and found Saw Guerrera – a man wrapped in shadows and partnered with violence – because Galen had absolute faith in him. Now he’s tied up in suspicion of spying as a creature prepares to feast on his brains.

Bodhi really should have just stayed in bed today.

A nice warm mug of grog, a good book, maybe some spare parts to tinker with…he could have happily lived his life, ignorant of the injustices of the Empire. He was a measly cargo pilot. It’s not like he was the one committing atrocities in the name of unity. 

But no. He’s had to learn about their crimes first hand when he watched his best friend slaughtered for daring to speak against the Empire.

And then he had to keep questioning his life and the Empire’s actions, which all led him here: to a monster about to scramble and fry his brain. This was it. This is how he dies.

He just hopes the message actually gets through.

The creature is on him now, tentacles latching onto his temples. The scream that follows is instinct to the unpleasant invasion as his every mental defense is ripped to pieces by the Bor Gullet. As it burrows into his mind, he can feel every moment, every probe and it’s complete and utter  _ agony _ .

_ Pain. _

_ Sharp. _

_ Constant. _

_ Pain. _

Eyes slam shut against the onslaught, as if that could alter the turmoil.

He feels the probes like a drill, pushing deeper and deeper into his mind, but it’s stopped short by his natural defenses – a glass-like enclosure that keeps his mind in neat order. He likes things in their neat, little boxes. Moments pass and the drill goes deeper. Cracks radiate from the point of contact, memories slipping through randomly.

_ … _

_ He’s four, laughing hysterically as he chases his older sister through the meadow. Bees and butterflies dance through the air. His sister is singing as she races ahead of him. _

_ “Come on, Bodhi! Catch up!” _

…

Another crack.

_ … _

_ “Wrong button! Wrong button! Hit the reverse thrusters. NOW!” _

_ His hands jams into the level, yanking it back as the pillar of rock grows closer. The ship jerks and suddenly flies in the opposite direction. His instructor frantically shouts directions as the ship jerks, but Bodhi is in his natural element now. This ship is an extension of his body, the proctor long forgotten as he maneuvers through the increasingly tough landscape with a grin. _

_ This is the work he wants to do: racing through canyons and dodging obstacles. He likes the pressure, the thrill. It’s the reason he applied to the pilot program. _

_ He laughs as he docks the ship, turning to the man beside him. He doesn’t get the chance to even ask the question before: _

_ “You FAIL!” _

…

_ Light filters through the white crystal. If he looks closely enough he can see the beam refracted. Any normal child would be fascinated by the rainbows cast around him, but Bodhi…he can’t tear his eyes away from the crystal, not since he stumbled upon it on the way home from school. _

_ He’s never seen a crystal like this one. _

_ The light inside doesn’t react as it should. If you hold the rock just so, it becomes a solid color. Sometimes green, sometimes blue, and very rarely purple. It’s important. _

_ “Bodhi? Where did you find that?” _

_ The crystal, barely the size of his finger, is ripped from his hand and throw out the window. His mother grabs his face and spins him so he’s staring directly into her warm brown eyes,  _ his _ brown eyes. _

_ “You don’t ever play with those stones, Bodhi Rook, do you hear me? Those stones are evil.” _

_ He’s never seen her that serious. It was just a rock. How dangerous can a rock be? _

_ But her voice is deadly serious as she says. “Kyber crystals are not for playing. They’re dangerous.” _

…

_ The uniform itches. It’s too stiff and it chafes. The collar is too tight. _

_ And they’re staring at him. The generals and captains and everyone. They’re staring. _

_ Can they see him fidget? He’s trying not to fidget, but now he can’t stop thinking about it. _

_ There’s a man speaking, that probably has to do with graduation, with this commencement. Something about serving the good of the Empire, remaining faithful to the Chancellor, committing to uphold the laws of the land. It was absurd. He was a cargo pilot, for crying out loud. He only enlisted because he wanted to fly. _

_ It’s not like he’ll be enforcing anything. _

_ Bodhi pulls at his collar, dropping his hand a moment later when he receives a glare from his mentor. Flying might not be worth this. _

…

_ “Bohdi, are you sure about this? A pilot for the Empire?” _

_ He looks up from the brochure on his bed to smile at his sister. “All I want is to fly, Rhya. This is the only way I can do that.” _

_ She watches him skeptically from the other bed. “But Bohdi, the Empire…”  _

_ His legs swing over the side of the bed as he laughs. “I just want to fly.” _

_ “Sometimes things aren’t that simple, Bo. You’ll see when you get older.” _

_ He snorts in that disbelieving way six year olds do when they don’t believe a word you say. He has his convictions and he’s decided one way or another he will fly. _

…

_ “STAY AWAY FROM MY BROTHER!” _

_ Thud. Whack. Bam. _

_ Curled in a ball on the floor, he can’t see what’s going on, but he would recognize his sister’s voice anywhere. _

_ Tears plaster dirt to his face and every bone in his body aches. He’s certain he broke a bone when he attempted to throw a punch. But they tried to take his books, to tease him for his advanced classes and his…uniqueness. He was determined. He was going to be a pilot by sixteen, the youngest in Empire history. _

_ … _

_ “Mr. Rook, your job is to fly cargo from one end of the galaxy to the other. We do not pay you to perform evasive maneuvers. You have gunmen onboard for the express purpose of protecting sensitive equipment. If you had sent in a distress call, as is protocol, you would have been rescued in time.”  _

_ “But, sir-“ _

…

_ “Bodhi, listen to me: you have to get out of here. Working for the Empire will only get you killed.” _

_ “Rhya, I’m fine. I’m having the time of my life.” _

_ “You’re helping a dictator, Bo. You have to get out while you can. Do you hear me?” Her eyes dart around in anxiety.  _

_ Bodhi frowns. “What are you talking about?” _

_ “I’ve already said too much. I’ll talk to you later. Stay safe, Bo.” _

…

“He’s an Imperial pilot!”

…

_ The drive is pressed into his hand desperately. Galen Erso’s hands encase his, shaking. _

_ “You have to do this for me, Bodhi. You have to bring this to Jedha, to Saw Guerrara. You got that? Saw Guerrera.” _

_ Bohdi nods frantically. “Yeah. Saw Guerrera. Are you sure about this?” _

_ “Absolutely. You’re the only one who can stop this. You have to make it to Saw. May the Force be with you, Bodhi.” _

…

“Hey, are you the pilot?”

…

_ “That little voice in your head, Bo? It’s the Force guiding you.” _

_ “Trust the Force.” _

…

“The pilot? The Imperial pilot, the defector?”

…

_ “One tends to lose one’s mind…” _

…

“Are you the pilot?”

A pilot? Him?

That was something, something important. He should know that answer to that question. A pilot? Soaring through the stars. It meant something to him.

“Pull it together, Bo. There are people counting on you.”

That voice. He knows that voice, knows it like he knows his own…his own…what…what is it that makes him to utterly connected to that voice. It’s important, something he’s not supposed to forget…

“BODHI ROOK! I am your sister and you will listen to me. Now: WAKE UP!”

He starts. He’s asleep?

“Are you the pilot?”

Pilot…

Ships, stars, lightspeed,  _ freedom _ . Streaks of white light flying past his view. Long journeys through space on his own, accompanied by stiff military men who looked down their nose at him. Guns, clones, threats of attack.

“Pilot. Yes!” It’s all making sense, solidifying from a jumble of sensations into a solid picture. “That’s me. I’m the pilot!”

He’s not where he last remembers: the cell with the Bor Gullet, tied to a chair, struggling against his bindings in that long room lit by that one dirt-stained window. This room is…brighter. The pain in his head is…less. It’s still there, it just doesn’t seem to penetrate directly into his brain stem. Now it’s just a general all-encompassing numbing pain.

After a moment, he realizes his leg bounces nervously, free of constraints: he’s no longer tied down. It’s the same instant that he feels the rocks that dig uncomfortably into his back, demanding his attention, screaming that he’s no longer stuck in that damned chair.

Like that epiphany switches his mind back on, Bodhi takes in his surroundings with fresh eyes. The cell door is the only thing keeping him here now. Well, that and the innumerable rebels on the other side of it. But this whole scenario feels surreal to his bizarrely awake brain, simultaneously new and familiar, too defined to be fake, too distant to be anything but a dream. It’s almost like he’s floating in a new world, like he’s seeing everything for the first time, like he suddenly took off blast goggles and sees his surroundings for what they truly are.

“You know Galen Erso?”

Right. Someone’s talking to him.

Bodhi twists to face the small window into an adjoining cell. The face beside him is a guarded but eager. He looks more civilized than the crew that grabbed him, and less clean-cut than any Imperial soldier. Since he’s locked up alongside Bodhi, it would appear neither of them are on good terms with the rebels outside. Plus, finding Bodhi seems to be a win for the stranger, not that Bodhi knows why. No one’s ever been particularly happy to see him before.

“That’s a lie. I’m always happy to see you, Bo.”

He whips around to see who spoke, convinced moments ago that he had been alone in this cell. The movement sends him toppling unexpectedly off the ledge he was propped on with a startled yelp. Now his head’s not the only part of him in pain.

“You brought the message from Galen Erso?” The man asks again, the lilt to his voice more pronounced with the growing emotion behind the words.

Galen. The man who sent him to a potential ally where he was tortured, the man who convinced him to listen to his morals and defect. He trusted Galen. The man had comforted him in a time of trouble…after something happened…something…something he can’t remember, but he  _ trusted _ Galen with his life, more than he’d ever trusted anyone since his parents.

“Yes. I’m the pilot,” Bohdi repeats. It’s a mantra. It grounds him even while his head still tries to order his thoughts.

“Good. Good. What’s your name?”

“Bodhi. Bodhi Rook. Imperial Pilot.” He smiles at the words that form of their own volition. It’s getting easier to sort his memories. They’re falling back into order. “I defected. Galen Erso sent me here with a message.”

The man nods, intense eyes boring into Bodhi like he could see into his soul. “I’m with the Rebellion. So what’s this message?”

Bodhi frowns. The message? “I don’t have it. It was on a drive.” His eyes wander to the door of his cage. “I gave it to them.”

“Careful, Bo.”

He blinks, startled once again by the female whisper that reaches his ear. Instead of falling out of his seat again, he has enough sense to slowly glace to the side. There’s no one there, just the rock walls keeping him here.

“Do you know where I can find Galen Erso?” Cassian Andor asks, his voice a calm tone one uses when talking to a wild animal.

He nods. “Yeah, I know.”

“You don’t even know him. How do you know he is who he says he is?” The woman’s voice still comes from nowhere and everywhere at once, an echo of the niggling thought in the back of his mind.

“What other choice do I have?” he asks the phantom voice. 

Cassian frowns. “What?”

So he’s the only one hearing the female voice, which she confirms with a musical laugh. “It’s just you and me, Bo. I’m the voice in your head.”

_ He’s hearing things now. Another reason he shouldn’t have developed morals. _

An exasperated sigh. “That creature scrambled your brain. I suggest you talk to Pretty Boy before he gets any more anxious.”

Bodhi’s eyes slide to back to Cassian.  _ He’s Alliance. That’s who I want. They can help. They’ve got to better than these rebels. Right? They can’t be much worse, can they? _

“As long as you’re sure.” She’s teasing now, and it’s that quality that spurs his memory.

_ Rhya. _

”That’s my little brother,” she chuckles. “Now, talk to the Rebel before he disappears.”

_ We’re locked in jail cells. _

“Bodhi?”

His head jerks at his name. 

“Can you take us to Galen Erso?”

Bodhi nods. “He’s on Eadu.” He’s aware of that he just met this man, and doesn’t know where he stands, but anything is better than being trapped in this cell.

“Now we just need to get out of here.” Cassian turns his attention to the door of his cell.

As he stands, the ground shakes under his feet. Bodhi freezes, hands held out for balance. His head throbs as his vision swirls. Everything lurches and moves. He should probably sit back down.

“Get out of here!”

A cacophony of shouts and the loud grumble of the ground fills his ears, dust rising from the floor.

Bodhi stands by his door, watching Cassian and his cellmates burst from the cell next door. His hands wrap around the bars of the door. He frowns. It’s not just him, not just his mind making his perception of the world shift. Everything is really moving…

Cassian grabs his weapons and makes a dash for the door with a shout over his shoulder. “Get the pilot!”

Neither of his companions look particularly comforting. The blind monk catches a staff out of thin air. Bodhi’s certain he couldn’t do that even with two fully functioning eyes. The larger one looks beyond fierce with his hair sticking out in all directions. He stands so tall his head almost brushes the ceiling. The canon in his hands isn’t the least bit comforting, especially when it turns in his direction.

“No. No nononono.” He backs away from the door, eyes scrunch closed against the incoming pain.

“Come on, Pilot. We need to leave, now.”

His eyes peek open as his pain doesn’t increase. He can’t feel the hit, so either he can’t feel more of his body than he thought or he didn’t get shot. He opens one eye at a time. Bits of rock fall from the ceiling with the shaking and the two monks stare at him expectantly.

“If we don’t leave now, we will all die,” the blind one says before he turns to walk out the door.

The warrior with his cannon stares at Bodhi. “Come on, Pilot.”

Bodhi inches forward, tentatively stepping out of the cage hesitantly before the big man shoves him toward the door. His feet start moving of their own volition: one step after another, faster and faster as adrenaline pumps into his system.

The ideas connect in his head. He’s here to inform the rebels about a weapon of mass destruction, a secret the Empire wouldn’t hesitate to kill him over. He doesn’t know the specifics of the weapon, just that it has the power to destroy planets. If this is that weapon, he doesn’t know if they can make it off Jedha.

He falls back a step when he catches sight of the wave.

It’s bigger than the tsunami he witnessed as a child, easily swelling to block out the sky. Except this isn’t a wall of water about to crush them. It’s a wall of stone, Earth, and metal. There’s no escaping, no chance, however slight, of surviving if the wave pulls them under. They will die instantaneously. And there’s no escape in sight.

“The ship!”

Bodhi stumbles after the monks as Cassian appears out of nowhere with a woman in tow, racing toward a ship hurtling through the air toward them. The air burns as it’s forced in and out of his lungs. The uneven ground doesn’t help his already questionable coordination. 

With the last of his strength, he throws himself into the ship, landing in a sprawl on the metal floor. He drags himself onto a seat as he fights to catch his breath. The monks stumble in after him and the door closes behind them. 

There’s shouting as they try to fly out of the path of the wave of Earth. He’s a pilot. He could help, but he’s too winded, too devastated by the events of today to do more than stare at the cockpit as Captain Andor throws the ship into hyperdrive. 

His eyes flutter shut in relief as his breath starts to settle back into normal breathing rhythm.

“Is that him? The pilot?” 

He peeks an eye open to look at the woman. She’s staring at him, unabashedly. 

“She looks like him.” 

_ There’s the voice again _ . It’s not wrong. She does look like Galen Erso, enough so that he’s willing to bet this is the daughter he mentioned. It has to be. 

“I’m the pilot,” he repeats with a nod. “Bodhi Rook.” 

“Jyn Erso.” 

 


	2. The Downward Spiral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the response to the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this next installment.

**Chapter 2: The Downward Spiral**

Whoever he is to the Alliance, Cassian Andor is not a pilot. Bodhi watches him from his seat on a crate as he scrambles to stabilize their flight before he steps back from the console with a sigh of relief. Even in his disoriented state, Bodhi can tell that the droid is the main pilot here. Cassian is barely getting by, only taught the basics of space travel in order to do his job successfully, whatever that job is. Bodhi can’t help but feel a little resentful. Flying is a revered thing, an art form. At least  _ good _ flying is supposed to be.

Directly between his eyes, pressure grows to the point of pain as his vision splits. In one eye it appears that they’re headed to the blessed safety of the Rebel base. In the other, Jyn argues with Captain Andor about her father, about the messaged Bodhi had luckily seen delivered into the right hands. The vision splits further: Empire ships pursue them, shots ramming into the craft for a bumpy ride.  

“Did you hear the message?”

The second scene takes over his vision to find all eyes on him: Cassian expectant and the Jyn with a hit of hope. The message…the one he delivered to Saw’s men…

He shakes his head. “Sorry.”

He knows Galen, knows that the man would never endanger anyone that close to him, that sending Bodhi in his stead to Saw was a last ditch effort to stop the Empire. But he doesn’t know the contents of the message, a precaution: plausible deniability for Bodhi if he was caught, protection for him and Galen if he was tortured after he passed on the message.  If he was caught before he reached Saw, he was supposed to toss the message. This was all about defeating the Death Star.

If Bodhi couldn’t pass on the message, Galen would find another way.

Yet his words also seem to doom Jyn’s argument. That doesn’t stop the escalating tension between Cassian and Jyn, and closing his eyes does nothing to diminish it either. Bodhi might even call it sexual frustration if they weren’t knee deep in enemy territory right now. He never thought he’d be back in Imperial space this soon.

“Evasive maneuvers, K!”

A violent jolt sends Bodhi into another scenario where the ship is thrown out of lightspeed by an Imperial shot. Everyone clings to available surfaces, swaying but not falling as they glance around for weapons, hope, anything they can use to fight back.

The droid responds with an unhelpful: “the odds of our continued survival is minimal, Captain.”

“K!”

Bodhi scrambles forward from his seat to take control of the ship. The droid glances at him, but apparently decides he can’t hurt their chances. The craft is larger than the Imperial fighters he learned to fly in basic training, with more maneuverability than the cargo ships he flies across the Empire. One look at the distinct lack of weapons and he knows they’re in trouble. This is a transport ship.  Galen said the Empire underestimated the rebels, but if a poorly outfitted cargo ship was their idea of a way to take on star destroyers, he has his doubts . This flying bucket of bolts won’t last much longer. Then there’s the other fundamental problem: their nav system is gone. They can barely fly in a circle, let alone complete the necessary evasive maneuvers. 

“See?” the droid says, unhelpfully.

It’s only a matter of time before their shields fail completely and a shot rips through their hull, killing them all instantly.

He looks out the windshield to the Imperial fighter coming at them, head on. He doesn’t need to hear K-2SO’s “oh, dear” to know that this will be the final blow.

There’s no coming back from his one. There’s no way to know which shot destroys the shield, which one kills their life support, which one finally takes them out. All he can see is the rain of red lasers that will kill them all.

A burst of light, an explosion, and then…

“My father’s been working to undermine the Empire. We can stop what happened on Jedha from ever happening again. We have to rescue him!”

Bodhi blinks rapidly, reassessing his surroundings. He’s back on his crate, staring at K-2SO flying the ship. There’s no battle, no fighters trying to engage them. They’re safe.

His eyes dart to the monks. The blind man appears to be watching him, or as much as a blind man can  _ stare _ . He’s not turned completely toward Bodhi, his head only vaguely turned his direction, but Bodhi can still feel the monk’s attention focused on him.  _ Chirrut Îmue.  _ That’s his name.

“We’re deep in Imperial Space. I can’t risk sending that.”

Bodhi returns his attention to Cassian and Jyn where they stand in front of him.

The Captain wants to. That much is evident in the split second before his cool mask reasserts itself. It’s the look of man who would love nothing more than to send that message, the look of a man who has orders he doesn’t agree with. Bodhi knows that look.

The mask, however, is that of a man in charge, a man who expects his orders to be followed. Bodhi glances at Jyn, comparing her to their esteemed captain. Andor might bear the title of leader in this…rescue mission? Adventure? But he can tell from their faces, the only one following his orders without hesitation will be the droid.

Erso isn’t a willing follower and the monks’ body language clearly throws their support behind her. She cares so much it hurts. It’s raw and painful. It’s reeks of a pure, courageous heart. They will follow her charisma, which she clearly got from Galen. She’s unflinchingly honest, even when she doesn’t know the right answer. Even the Captain seems to be bowing to her wishes, even if they don’t know it yet.

His surroundings flicker again.

A whine escapes him: What the hell is going on? This is one hell of a nightmare. He’s never had one this vivid before. Or several layered one over another.

“You’re not dreaming, Bo.”

He blinks. He feels stupid for getting dragged into yet another new scenario. The ship looks the same as it did a moment before. Except now Jyn and Cassian’s back and forth is muffled, muted. His head twists to locate the source of the voice.

She’s a new occupant, leaning against the wall like she’s been there the whole time. She shoots him an angelic smile as she flips her long hair back over her shoulder.

“Rhya.” It’s a breath, a barely-there word that somehow contains all his love. He’s missed her. He hasn’t seen his sister in years, and here she is now, a product of his fevered brain.

She winks at him. “So how’s my favorite brother? Getting in trouble again?”

This isn’t real. It can’t be. He’s seeing things. If she were here, the others would see her. Still, he responds. “You could say that. What’s happening to me?”

If she’s a creation of his mind, then maybe she’ll know the answer. She smiles sadly. “You’ve been through a lot, Bo.”

He snorts as his surroundings flicker to the peaceful ship as it falls out of hyperspace and begins the descent into the Rebel Base. The only person who doesn’t flicker is Rhya. “Is any of this real?”

She glances around.

“This is because of that creature, isn’t it? Bor Gullet? It did something to my mind.”

_ One tends to lose one’s mind _ .

Is that what’s happening to him right now? Is he losing his mind? Has he already lost it? Was the destruction on Jedha a product of his fevered mind?

“This isn’t real.” He frowns as the door to the shuttle opens on a squadron of Rebels, weapons pointed at them. Bodhi raises his hands in surrender just in case. “We were on our way to Eadu.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asks.

He frowns. Is he? “That’s the scene I keep going back to. It makes the most sense. They need Galen. They wouldn’t just turn around. It’s…” he ponders it for a moment. “It’s easier to get Galen…” than the plans. Jyn had said something about a weakness…in the Death Star…about needing the schematics… ”It’s easier to get Galen than the Death Star plans.”

The Resistance soldiers fade, returning Bodhi to the ship soaring through space, drawing ever closer to Eadu. Rhya grins.

“That’s it, Bo.”

He did it. Even now he can feel other visions tugging at the edge of his mind for attention. It takes a lot for him to focus on the present. He already feels exhausted. He focuses on the view as they drop out of hyperspace just outside the stormy planet.

“Alright, pilot: guide us in.”

Bodhi moves closer at Cassian’s order. This is the last thing he wants to do, especially when he was finally out of the Empire’s grasp, especially when he kept flashing between the planet before him and an interrogation cell on Jedha. His sister hovers over his shoulder, both there and not there at the same time.

“You’ve got this, Bo,” she whispers in his ear.

He hopes she’s right.

…

“State your name and rank.”

Bodhi blinks up at his interrogator. He’s not locked in a cell, not like when he was taken by Saw Guerrera’s rebels, but this is still undoubtedly an interrogation. There’s no Bor Gullet destroying his mind from the inside. But he’s still stuck in a room with a less-than-pleasant man demanding answers.

“Bodhi Rook. Defector.”

“Your prior rank, Rook.” The man is brisk, cool in his demeanor as he stands, hands clasped behind his back.

“Pilot. I’m the pilot.” He shivers, a sudden gust of cold biting his skin.

No. This isn’t real. He’s not in interrogation. He’s soaked through, his pilot uniform little protection against the whipping wind and downpour. The blinding light is replaced by the dark that always encases Eadu. Cassian is staring at him.

“Keep going.”

“Wh-why? What?” They can see the platform from here, can see the if they can sneak in. There’s no reason to keep moving up.

“We need to get to higher ground.”

Cassian shoves him along. He stumbles on the rocky terrain, moving forward since he can’t turn back. He tries to keep his wits about him, but with each stumble, his world shifts.

…

“Why did you defect, Bodhi Rook?”

…

“Bodhi Rook, you stand accused of treason against the Empire, for which the punishment is death!”

…

“Come back to bed, Bodhi.”

…

“Which one is he?” Cassian shoves a pair of binoculars into Bodhi’s hand and he refocuses on the platform they’re now looking down on.

The device feels foreign in his hands. He doesn’t know what to focus on at first, staring at a blur of officers, unable to make out a single face. After a moment, his gaze narrows and the features become more distinct. He has a feeling he might regret speaking but another part desperately wants to earn the Rebel’s trust. If he proves himself useful, then that interrogation scene hopefully won’t be a premonition of his future.   

“He’s there. The man in the white suit.”

Cassian confirms the sighting and reaches for his gun. Warning bells ring in his head. “I thought you said you were only going to look.”

The words sound naïve and wishful even to his own ears.

“Go find us a ship.”

It’s a clear dismissal. In one world, he continues to push the point until Cassian orders him to leave. In another, he’s back in that interrogation room. In yet another, he standing on this very outcropping with Jyn Erso at his side.

Reluctantly, he backs away from the Rebel, toward the hangar where he knows the cargo ships wait. He slips in the muddy ground in his haste to get to his destination before he slips into another word. Again.

He skids to a stop just outside the door. He’ll have to keep his head down, avoid anyone who would recognize him, which is essentially everyone since Eadu was his most frequented stop. If he runs into anyone, he’ll be doomed.

One deep breath is all he allows before he punches his supervisor’s code into the door to get it to pop open. He slinks through the door, pulling the lapels of his jacket closer around him. He doesn’t see anyone in the darkened hallway. They’re probably gathering people on the platform for something big. If he’s lucky, his way will be clear.

“Bodhi? Is that you?” Of course, he spoke too soon.

He pauses, hand inches from the door what would have led him right to the cargo ships. He knows the voice: Xan. His first friend from Eadu. They would exchange the craziest stories whenever they were assigned here together. Of course, he would recognize him.

“I thought you deserted. What are you…what are you doing here?”

“Xan…” if he thought for an instant he could convince Xan to come with him, to join him in defying the Empire, he would have dragged him along for the ride when he first left. But that’s a pipe dream. Xan is the sheep Bodhi once thought himself to be until his eyes were harshly opened to the reality of the Empire’s rule.

Bodhi turns slowly to look into Xan’s eyes. They were so much more than friends once…but that was a long time ago. Now, he stares down the barrel of a blaster pointed at Bodhi’s heart.

“Xan.” He steps forward, drawing a breath of courage. Each step brings him closer. The gun shakes in Xan’s hand.

“Don’t. Don’t come any closer. I’m serious, Bo. You’re a traitor. I’ll have to shoot you. Don’t make me do this.”

It’s a miracle he hasn’t been shot yet, that his feet are still steady enough to land one in front of the other until he’s only a foot from Xan with the end of the plaster resting against his chest. Frankly, he’s shocked he hasn’t run yet.

His hands shake violently as he closes his hand over Xan’s on the gun, and lowers it. “I’m sorry, Xan.” But he can’t let himself get caught. He can’t surrender to Xan. So even if he doesn’t want to hurt him, Bodhi can’t let himself be caught either.  “I’m sorry.”

His cheeks are wet as he turns the gun on Xan and gestures back to the supply closet. “Get in.”

Bodhi blinks and the scene changes: Xan lies on the ground, blood leaking from a hole through his chest.

Another blink: the hall is empty. There’s no blaster in his hand.

Another. He’s face to face with ten different pilots.

“FOCUS, BODHI!”

Rhya’s voice pulses through his head, so loud it shakes all of his current reality. One by one, the pilots disappear, fade into nothing, and he’s alone once more.

“You need to  _ focus _ .”

Bodhi wrings his hands together as he moves down the hallway. Mentally, he reviews each step of a flight, catalogues each action in preflight, flight and postflight. He goes over and over procedure as he slips into the hangar, blessedly empty.

He gets behind the wheel of the cargo ship closes to the hangar bay door. His hands shake as he goes through procedure. The scene with Xan. It stays with him. He can’t just dismiss it, how close he came to confronting someone so close to him. 

“Bodhi.” Rhya again. “You need to go. Now.”

His hands wrap around the controls as he centers his mind and takes a deep breath. He has to do this. He needs to fly this ship back to the crashed rebel ship, back to the rest of the survivors from Jedha. They’re counting on him. Without him and this ship, they won’t get off planet.

His head might be a mess, but he has to pull it together. 

Miraculously, he makes it back to the wreckage of the Rebel ship without another episode, even if his hands still shake a little from the experience. He stumbles out of the ship to help move supplies, but pauses when he only sees the K-2SO unit. 

“Where is everyone?” 

“They left. They don’t follow orders. Cassian is not going to be happy.” 

Cassian’s going to be a bit more than just not happy, Bodhi reflects. Though he can’t say he’s really surprised. Jyn and Chirrut didn’t seem like the rule-following types. And Baze, he would follow Chirrut anywhere. So, no, Bodhi’s not surprised by their absence. 

It does make carrying their supplies over the slick ground in the pouring rain that much more difficult. Kay complains the entire time, even as he works, and Bodhi finds that, while he enjoys the droid’s constant commentary, he’s easy to drown out. 

In seemingly no time at all, the rest of their party races back, soaked to their skin and screaming that it’s time to go. An instant later, they’re flying away, speeding off toward the relative safety of the Rebel Base. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Lovely Readers!! Thanks for giving this fic a chance! I'm super-excited for this chance at a re-write/fix-it fic for this story as Rogue One has started to kind of take over my life. And I needed to write something to showcase the awesomeness that is Bodhi Rook. So I really hope you liked this little intro. 
> 
> If you're interested in this continuing (and I really hope you are because I have big plans for this fic), yes, there will be ships involved (which will be tagged as they appear) and possible major character death, although the permanence is questionable. 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought in the comments and THANK YOU for reading!


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